Barrett’s Privateers (nonfiction)

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"Barrett’s Privateers" is a song by Stan Rogers.

Lyrics

O the year was Seventeen Seventy-Eight How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now A letter of marque came from the king To the scummiest vessel I’ve ever seen

God damn them all I was told we’d cruise the seas for American gold We’d fire no guns, shed no tears Now I’m a broken man on a Halifax pier The last of Barrett’s Privateers

O Elcid Barrett cried the town How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now For twenty brave men all fishermen who Would make for him the Antelope’s crew

The Antelope sloop was a sickening site How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now She’d list to the port and her sails in rags And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags

On the King’s birthday we put to sea How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Ninety-one days to Montego Bay Pumping like madmen all the way

On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now When a great big Yankee hove in sight With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight

The Yankee lay low down with gold How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now She was broad and fat and loose in stays But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

Then at length she stood two cables away How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Our cracked four-pounders made awful din But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs And the main truck carried off both me legs

Now here I lay in my twenty-third year How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now It’s been six years since we sailed away And I just made Halifax yesterday

(Composed by Stan Rogers | © Fogarty’s Cove Music)

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